Bad Fanfiction: the Death of Grammar
by Monsterbat Productions
Summary: won dae at the dragon villag, spyro woken up to find that he felt very... different. The informalities of life were lifted off of him. What happens when plot and substance invade an awful fanfiction?
1. teh beginig

N/a Ok, I know the grammar is going to be bad… but it figures into the plot. Please deal with it in any way you can. If you'd like, you can rant into the comments. I'll listen attentively. :)

Oh, and I'm going into "bad grammar mode" for the rest of this, so please be patient with me.

One apon a time, there was a villag with dragons in it and the dragons were in it were happy. And spyro and cynder and volteer and terrador and spark and many other where there as well. It was a nice one with a lot of green gras and beautiful things and they like it there.

1 days, spyro decided, "what did it happen to ignitus," to himself and he set off on an adventure. He went to the wheel of fire when he died and he look and didnt find ignitut. I sorry spyro said cynder and give him a hug. He tem said ah well and fleww back. Then he had a dinner with people he love then he go to bed.

The end of it

n/a nothing much happen, but will get interesting nekst chaptr. Hope you like. Here is preview fo nekst chapter with big twist spolier.

It was a good beautiful nice gorgeous day out side with sun shining and bird sing in villag. Spyro stirred in his bed, his dreams lingering for an instant then disappearing with the sudden realization that something had changed. Something almost indescribable had gripped the dragon. Perhaps he was imagining it.

But perhaps he wasn't.


	2. teh twist

It was like the whole world had become clearer. Like without even knowing it, he had been staring through a haze his entire life that had suddenly been lifted. He could feel the bed sheet, cool and rough, its texture soothing to the skin and mind. He could taste the smoke in the air from a fire in the fireplace. Exhilaration flowed through his very soul. Then he spotted the letter, sitting on his nightstand.

He dared not move. For some reason he couldn't explain, he felt apprehension in the face of that letter. He felt that maybe it was connected to all of this. Or maybe it would make this feeling end. He didn't want it to end.

But end it did.

Sphyro then went to the letter to pick it up and to read the letter and then he saw that there was no name so as not to be rood he lef it ther to be picked up by somwon who wanted it. Ten he wet to out and had a bbq that was s et up and then he wet to sleep again in dreams. ten he nev thought about that moment of clarity agen.

the end of it.

n/a so wat you think of twist goo rite i like it.


	3. teh reelysation

It happened again. It was sudden, like a bolt of lightning had struck him. Things had just seemed different.

He was in the park, playing on the swing set, when Spyro suddenly realized that he was using playground equipment intended for children. There's nothing wrong with a dragon playing on a swing set my age, reasoned spyro as he slipped off of the swing. But how had he been using it?

It was true that he could have possibly balanced his back legs on the seat and used his wings to grip the chain, but that seems uncomfortable and unnecessary. Furthermore, the materials the playground equipment was made out of seemed unnatural. He reasoned he'd never even seen some of these things before in his life. In fact, had he ever even seen a place like this before today? He couldn't recall anything like this in the swamp he grew up in. This bothered Spyro. There had to be an answer.

But then sspyro forget an play sum more an go home an res an dreaming many good thing.


	4. teh leter

Why did this keep happening?

It struck again when he first began to cut into his dinner. The knife clattered to the floor, and he wondered how he even managed to pick it up and use it in the first place. Once again, he felt the sudden change resonating in his very soul.

That sudden moment of clarity had come twice before. This time marked three. Each time that things seemed clearer, it somehow left him more confused than before. How can seeing things clearer raise more questions? Today he would find answers.

He walked from the dining room into the foyer, up the stairs, hung a right… Man, this place was big. It had cost him a lot of money, but it was perfect.

He entered the bedroom. The nightstand towered ominously. He knew that the letter on its top must have some connection with the events that were unfolding. Fear did not hold him back this time.

But the nightstand contained nothing. Its bare top gleamed in the dim light. Spyro cursed under his breath. Someone must have taken it. Perhaps Cynder held the answer to its whereabouts.

He charged down the stairs, calling her name. He knew his time was short. He crashed into the kitchen, where cynder had apparently suddenly appeared.

"Hey, you where fast where to why you here?"

Despite the urgency that had taken control of him moments before, Cynder's question caught him off guard. What exactly was she asking? The word "fast" and the phrase "where to" had appeared in her inquiry, but-

But he had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Cynder, did you see an envelope on the nightstand? It's kind of important."

Cynder stared at him blankly. She didn't seem to understand.

"Cynder?"

"Mail goes in mailbox so it can send."

The absurdity of that sentence sunk into his psyche like a stone, but he ran to the mailbox anyways. There was the envelope, crammed inside the tin case. He tore open the envelope, smoothed the creases, and read. This is how it read.

"Dear **Sir** /Madame/Agender/Bigender/Genderless Being/ Primordial Being/God/Devil Sheep/Robotic Abomination,

You have been randomly selected to partake in an experiment involving your mental state when exposed to extreme stupidity. This experiment is to comply with our needs will result in absolutely nothing, as you have already been modified to suit our needs. We have allowed a short period in which we slowly ramp up your cognizance, known colloquially as one's "awakening," incrementally allowing for rest periods as to not stress your mind. You are to keep a journal, updating it every 1-2 days with the following information.

Changes in physical/mental behavior following your "awakening"

Personality traits observed in others

A short psychiatric self assessment

Progress in relationships with others

Personal notes

If you have any questions or comments, feel free to write back. You will be contacted by a selected representative of the BBI in near future. Please keep in mind **his** /her/their views are not necessarily those of BBI.

Have a lovely day."

There was no return address.

N/a I'm going to speak to you like a normal human being now because, quite frankly, I've got a little bit I want to say. First of all, I'm a little bit sick, so sorry if this chapter suffered a little because of that. At least my voice got deep enough to do a decent Sans impression now, so thats nice.

This story just got its first view from Norway! I don't know why I'm so excited about that, but I am! And just got on the favorites list of someone! Yay!

I've just got a loose outline for this story, btw, so if you've got any ideas about where it should go, write in the comments below. Hey! That rhymed! ...I should probably stop writing before I make a fool out of myself. Well, I am a fool, but still. It's the principle of the thing.

I'll try and get another chapter out soon!


	5. teh boken up

"Wait a second," Spyro grimaced, "Could you repeat what you said?"

Have am cheating on yo cnyder said rememoresingly

A go at man came out from behind of cynder wit BIG horn an bise seps.

I m cheat helper. I cheat with cynder. Ten they kiss wit luv my oc and cynider

"What?"

Although it was a rhetorical question, it summed the situation up quite nicely.

Spiro we arg over. You know. I live away now. Away.

Ten they wok out teh front door an ddnever cum back

For good measure, he repeated himself.


	6. teh batcheler

Spyro was sad to see Cynder go. She was his best friend, his lover, his soulmate. Or at least, that's what he had believed little less than a week ago. But now she was gone, and in her stead were all these new feelings and sensations.

Still, life as a bachelor wasn't so bad. It reminded him of simpler days in the swamp where he'd grown up. It was just him and Sparx, against the had been different back then. Very different.

He shook himself from his stupor. It was just different now, and no matter how strange the past, the present seemed stranger.

He poured himself a bowl of cereal, fumbling as he attempted to grip the box in his claws. It had seemed like a simpler task before all this started happening. He had just generally gotten breakfast and gone about his day. Now it was a constant struggle just to retain his dignity doing simple tasks. Annoyance was commonplace.

The box fell, much of the content spilling onto the marble tiles beneath his feet. A groan escaped his lips as he started to reach for the dust-pan. Then he stopped. A thought had struck him. It was simple, logical, tempting.

Why didn't he just eat it off the floor if it gave him that much trouble?

It made sense. Life had been fickle. He was gifted with insight, but had lost convenience. The ability to understand the world had been dropped in his lap, but the ability to live in the world easily had been taken away.

He decided to postpone breakfast. He was hungry, but he was still civilized. Besides, he was getting needlessly philosophical. If he didn't watch himself, he'd ask himself pointless questions like why the sky was blue or why fortune cookies started giving proverbs instead of fortunes.

He sat down near the three day old take-out bag and reread the slip of paper left over from last night's dinner.

"A wise man and a happy man are not necessarily the same thing." Whatever happened to, "You will meet a tall dark stranger," or, "You will find five bucks on the sidewalk?"

The doorbell rang. A letter fell through the slot in the door, but he was too lazy to get up. Maybe he'd read his fortune again.

But what if it was them?

He was at the door in a flash, tearing open the envelope and part of the letter in the process. It went a little something like the following.

"Hey hey! How's the old test subject coming, eh? Any news on the homefront?

So I'm your assigned 'BBI representative,' but I don't like that title. Feels too impersonal, so let's just say I'm your 'Mandatory Buddy!' Wow, that seems peppy. Kind of too peppy. Do I get points for trying? Anyways…

I've been assigned to you to answer any lingering questions you may have, to an extent. Some questions I have to run by the higher ups so I can, you know, make sure I don't lose my job. It's a pretty sweet gig! I've got this picture of a motivational cat dangling from a branch on my wall, and it says something funny and, well, motivational. Still, the print's really small, so I kind of have to guess what it says. Something about hanging or lynching or screaming or something.

Wow, I've been rambling for a while. I'd better stop. Don't want to waste too much paper! Be sure to write back! Seriously, I mean, it's kind of mandatory. Thanks a million!

-Rastabon

P. S. Just remembered, I have to mention: if you have trouble with a pen or can't find electronics, just dip your finger in something that'll stain and write like that. We got a discrimination lawsuit leveled against us for not accommodating those without opposable thumbs. Welp, see ya."

Spyro decided to use his new favorite word in this situation, as saying it to himself made him feel slightly more at home.

"What?"


	7. teh sand witch

He was getting tired of no one making sense.

'Please you sir said the chef you want the sand witch?"

"Look," Spyro growled at the man clad in white, leaning on the counter, "I have ordered a pastrami sandwich. Are you are checking to make sure my order is correct?"

"So i want you to sand wish."

Spyro winced at the chef's statement. "Are you agreeing with me? Are you saying _you_ want a sandwich? Are you asking me to sandwich something between something else?"

Spyro could feel the anger rising in his chest. "It sounded like you were asking a question at first, but then you phrased-"

"I interrupt Spyro with question"

Slowly, carefully, Spyro asked, "Did you just interrupt me to say you were interrupting me?"

He put his forehead to the counter and carefully bumped his head against it rhythmically.

Chef getting scareing. "Clam down sire I want you to sand witch?"

Spyro was now screaming at the chef.

"The spacing you place in the middle of that word is not helping the situation!"

He grabbed a menu, found his order, and emphatically pointed to it, thrusting it in the bewildered man's face.

"There! That word there! What does it say?!"

"The-"

"No, no!" interjected the furious dragon, "Don't say another word! Don't say a single letter that is not the word that I am pointing at!"

The man stared, shaking in fright. He slowly sounded out the phrase, "sand witch."

Spyro turned the menu, and read aloud, "sand witch." Then he made his way to the door, pausing only to whisper to the chef a single chilling sentence.

"You lost my patronage."


End file.
